Chapter 63: The Moment Time Stopped
The breeze was gentle, softly caressing the air, and every corner of the house and garden had been completely transformed for this day. Flowers adorned every corner—white roses and violets intertwined with silver ribbons—just as Bonnie liked. Music played in the background with its calm, elegant tones, while guests arrived, filled with anticipation and emotion.
This was no ordinary day.
It was the wedding day of Alexander Salvatore.
And the guest list alone was enough to confirm that without a doubt.
Alaric Saltzman had arrived early, wearing a dark gray suit, standing with his hands in his pockets, watching the place like the loyal guardian he always was, ready to do his duty. Elijah Mikaelson arrived with his usual quiet demeanor, followed by Rebekah and Klaus, who gave a half-smile and a nod to Damon, and the latter responded with a silent raise of his glass.
Even Sam and Dean Winchester were there—surprisingly and astonishingly—but they seemed comfortable among vampires and witches. Sam wore a sleek black suit, while Dean, as expected, refused to wear a tie until Elena forced it on him at the last minute. They stood near the drink table, watching the champagne like it might bite.
Matt and Tyler were nearby, smiling, still somewhat stunned to see the supernatural world gathered in peace... if only for once.
Inside, the Salvatore brothers stood in the hallway, each adjusting his suit, preparing for the awaited moment.
Damon, examining his appearance in the mirror, said:
"I was all set to spend the day mercilessly mocking Alexander. I even prepared a few jokes in advance."
Stefan added, adjusting his tie with a smile:
"So did I. But look at him."
They both turned.
Alexander stood tall and composed, wearing a finely tailored black suit and a silver tie. His features were calm—no tension in his eyes, no trembling, no pacing. He looked... ready.
Damon narrowed his eyes and asked:
"You're telling me you're not nervous? Not even a little?"
Alexander turned toward them, a faint smile forming on his lips:
"I've faced centuries of torment, curses, and wars. This is the first day of peace I've ever been promised in my life. Why should I be afraid?"
Stefan let out a low whistle:
"Damn... I think he's actually happy."
Damon muttered in mock surprise:
"Who would've thought it possible? We're losing him to the light side, brother."
Stefan laughed.
Then the garden doors opened, and Caroline peeked in:
"We're ready for you."
Alexander gave one last look in the mirror and said:
"Let's go."
---
The ceremony was everything Bonnie had dreamed of... and more than she ever imagined.
As she walked down the aisle between the guests, her eyes fixed on Alexander, the world around her faded. Her dress shimmered like moonlight, and in that moment, she became the center of every heartbeat in the garden.
Alexander watched her approach, his heart pounding—not from fear, but from a warmth that enveloped him completely.
When she reached him, he gently took her hand and whispered:
"You look like magic."
She replied, eyes sparkling:
"And you look like home."
It was Rick who officiated the ceremony, his calm, dignified voice guiding their vows that touched every heart.
"Do you, Alexander Salvatore, take Bonnie Bennett—"
Alexander cut in, answering without hesitation:
"I do."
Warm laughter rose from the guests.
"And do you, Bonnie Bennett—"
Bonnie said, her smile glowing brightly:
"I do."
Then Rick, with a voice carrying the sacred weight of the moment, declared:
"Then, by the ancient bonds of earth, fire, and love—I now pronounce you husband and wife."
The kiss was deep, full of emotion, melting years of longing and pain... into one single moment.
And the garden erupted in applause and joy.
---
The celebration lasted into the evening.
Laughter echoed through the Salvatore mansion. Tyler challenged Dean to a drinking contest, while Klaus spent a suspicious amount of time chatting with Rebekah and Caroline near the dance floor. Alaric and Elena stood off to the side, watching with warm smiles on their faces, while the brothers gathered near the drink table.
Damon raised his glass and said:
"We survived another wedding. I think that deserves a toast."
Stefan raised his glass as well:
"To Alexander, who somehow became the first of us to get married... without running away first."
Alexander laughed:
"Was that a jab at Damon?"
Damon clinked his glass against his brother's:
"Yes. Yes, it was."
As the music swelled, Bonnie extended her hand to Alexander and pulled him toward the dance floor.
But what happened next was unexpected.
The music shifted to an old waltz tune—a melody unheard for centuries. Alexander paused, turning to the DJ who shrugged apologetically:
"Caroline said this used to be one of your favorites."
Alexander stepped forward confidently, his posture changing, raising his hand with nobility and grace.
Then he began to dance—not like couples dance today, but like a man from another era. Each step precise, smooth, refined. A nobleman's dance... captivating.
People began to turn toward him, mesmerized.
Then Damon joined in, stepping beside his brother. The two danced as they had once learned, as children in the nineteenth century—two refined gentlemen, gliding gracefully across forgotten time.
The Mikaelsons watched silently... understanding the meaning behind the moment.
Then Stefan joined them, completing the Salvatore trio, weaving their steps among memories... too ancient for most of the guests to comprehend.
Laughter, applause, and pure astonishment followed the dance.
That night, Mystic Falls didn't feel like a cursed town.
It felt... like home.
And at the heart of it all stood Alexander Salvatore.
No longer broken.
No longer cursed.
But a man... who had finally found his freedom.
---
Music swelled across the grounds, friends' laughter echoing beneath the twinkling string lights. The scent of flowers filled the air, mixed with warm breezes of a perfect night in Mystic Falls. Everyone was dancing, lovers embraced, and the world—for the first time in a long while—felt like a kind place.
Then everything changed.
Alexander stood near the dance floor, his dark tie slightly loosened, a rare and genuine smile on his face. Bonnie was in front of him, laughing at something Caroline whispered, her eyes sparkling—not just with joy, but with that quiet peace people spend their lives chasing. She turned to Alexander, her lips parting gently as she stepped toward him.
He was about to speak—perhaps to ask for a dance.
Then it happened.
One blink.
Bonnie's head tilted slightly—as if she heard something faint.
Two blinks.
Blood spilled from her neck as if brushed on with a paintbrush. Her body froze for a moment, then her knees gave out. She collapsed lifelessly, her head tilting at an unnatural angle, as if something invisible had slashed her throat.
The music didn't stop immediately.
It played for a few horrifying seconds more. Then silence followed—not just from the instruments or the guests, but a silence that swept through souls. A silence that strangled everything, swallowed sound, and filled hearts with dread.
Alexander didn't move.
Not at first.
Everyone around him froze in place. Damon. Stefan. Caroline. Elena. The Mikaelsons. Even Klaus—who rarely wore any expression besides disdain or mockery—looked stunned.
But Alexander...
Fell to his knees.
Slowly.
As if his bones had turned to dust.
He didn't scream. He didn't ask what happened. He didn't call her name.
He just stared.
At Bonnie's lifeless body. At the blood staining her dress. At her eyes that would never look at him again.
His hands—those hands that had torn through enemies, fought rulers and monsters—trembled as they reached for her. He lifted her into his arms, held her gently, and whispered her name once.
Only once.
"Bonnie..."
His voice cracked. Barely audible.
Then the tears came.
Real. Burning. Soul-shattering.
No rage. No madness. No vengeance.
Just grief.
Pure. Harsh. Terrifying.
Damon had never seen his brother cry. Not in centuries. Not in war, not under torture, not in blood. Not once.
Stefan reached out, touching Damon's arm, but neither moved. Neither spoke.
Because this was not a moment for comfort.
It was a moment of mourning.
Alexander bowed his head over Bonnie's body, his forehead touching hers. His tears fell on her skin, his lips brushed her temple as if to awaken her. As if the world could fix itself.
But it didn't.
The Mikaelsons stood still, their expressions unreadable. Sam and Dean Winchester stood near the entrance, their eyes heavy with understanding. Rebekah took one step forward then stopped, her hands trembling. Behind her, Klaus looked at Elijah with a dark expression.
Whoever dared to touch Bonnie Bennett in front of Alexander Salvatore... had sparked something no one could stop.
Minutes passed. Perhaps hours. In that moment, no one really knew how much time had gone by.
Finally, Alexander raised his head. His eyes—red, wet, shattered—lifted first to Stefan. Then to Damon. Then to the faces of all those he loved. And for the first time in their long lives, the brothers saw the last piece of Alexander's soul break.
Not his mind.
Not his body.
But his soul.
And what rose in its place... was something no one knew.
He stood slowly, Bonnie still in his arms, her blood soaking into his shirt.
"Get everyone out of here," he said quietly.
Stefan blinked. "Alexander—"
"Now."
His tone wasn't a suggestion.
It was a warning.
Damon stepped forward, trying to say something,
but his voice failed him. He looked at Elena, who was already crying. Caroline approached Stefan, clutching his arm.
People began to move—stunned, grieving, unable to comprehend.
But one thing became clear.
This was no longer just a tragedy.
It was a declaration of war.
---
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